


Helping Hands

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Avengers Tower, Blood and Injury, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Minor Character Death, Neglect, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Loki (Marvel), Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: Haley doesn’t know many things. To be honest, she didn’t even know her name until Tony gave her one. Raised by a hidden sect of Hydra where her unusual healing powers were exploited, she’s thrust into an entirely new world when the Avengers come into the picture. But everything comes at a price, and time is not on her side.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 74
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

“Healer, take care of this. Now!”

She looked up from where she was curled up on an uncomfortable metal chair, staring impassively at the man who had controlled every aspect of her life for as long as she could remember. Mr. Shaw dictated her life, keeping her close to him for situations such as this - an injury sustained from the times he would leave the Compound, an injury that she was forced to remove at the detriment to her own well-being. Power coursed through her veins, strong and willing, as she dragged her worn sneakers over the floor. Any disgust she had once felt for her currently shirtless captor had worn away in the effort of self-preservation so she couldn’t even muster up the energy to frown as she surveyed his portly body for the injuries she was to remove.

Just as her hands settled on his slick, sweaty skin, the room descended into a panic. Guns emerged from waistbands and looks of grim determination and outright fear twisted faces now glowing in the dark red flashing emergency lights high up on the grimy concrete walls of her perpetual prison.

“What is it?” he shouted, shoving her hands away to stand up and pull a concealed handgun from his boot.

She took advantage of his distraction, backing up into a corner with wide eyes that darted around the room frantically for what could cause such chaos. Her thin arms wrapped around her waist and she tucked her hands into the stretched out sleeves of her raggedy black sweater. Anything to make her smaller and less conspicuous to whatever was coming their way.

“The Avengers, Mr. Shaw. All of them!”

The Avengers? She’d heard that name muttered unhappily before, oftentimes over plans and copious amounts of alcohol followed by a curse and thrown glassware that she was forced to later clean up. It was obvious that they were hated and feared by those who had fed and clothed her for as long as she could remember - with a price - but did that mean that she should as well?

An unfamiliar high-pitched whine rang in her ears, forcing her covered hands to shoot up to protect them from the awful sound, and then the wall directly across from her exploded in a flash of light so bright she instantly sank to the floor and curled up in as small of a ball as she could manage. The explosion pushed against her chest and ripped her breath from her lungs. Gunshots rang out all around her, and it was all she could do to make herself as little of a target as possible. Some sick, secret part of her hoped that Mr. Shaw would be beyond saving so she wouldn’t have to help him. But he wouldn’t risk _that_ if it was too dire, would he?

“Hey guys, I think we have a hostage here!”

The voice was alarmed, but without malice. Deep and rich and new so that she peered out from the safety of her closed arms to find the source of it. A darker-skinned man with red glasses and a suit made of grey and silver stood in front of her, his head tilted to the side as he watched her closely. Scattered around him were the bodies featuring the only faces she had ever known, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed as they stared at the ceiling. But Mr. Shaw wasn’t among them.

“Shit.” A man flew - _flew?_ \- down from across the room to stop in front of her. The silver helmet he wore retracted into the red headpiece, revealing an older face than she had expected. But his brown eyes lacked the malice she was accustomed to, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he knelt down in front of her with a red metal-suited hand held out between them. “Hey, little mouse. Are you with these assholes?”

Even if she had been, she wasn’t anymore. With her owner gone to who knows where, she was left without any options, and she couldn’t stay there. The rest of the group slowly converged on them, and she shrank back so hard and fast that her shoulder blades scraped against the rough wall behind her. A woman, stunningly beautiful with blonde hair and striking features, held up her hands in a show of peace and gestured for all of them to back away. All did, except one.

He towered over the rest. An impressive figure in gleaming dark leather speckled with blood, the man with raven hair and skin as fair as hers watched her with an unreadable expression on his face. She had never seen a man so beautiful, with cutting emerald eyes and cheekbones so sharp it only accentuated the harsh edge to his jaw. His hands flexed at his sides when their gazes met, and the raw power he radiated made her look back to the metal man kneeling in front of her. He didn’t make her heart race uncomfortably in her chest, and was, therefore, safer to inspect.

“We gotta go, Tony. More might be incoming and this building is going to go with the hole you blew in the wall.”

“I like to make an entrance,” Tony replied, not even looking at the blue-suited blond man who adjusted a large round shield on his arm anxiously. He was right, though. The already decrepit building groaned and creaked around them, protesting the damage done to it in such a short time. “Come with us, and we can get you back to where you belong.”

“It will be okay,” the woman assured her with a tight smile and a nod.

What choice did she have? She didn’t take Tony’s outstretched hand, but she did stand on shaky legs. “Okay.”

They guided her onto a waiting vehicle - something called a Quinjet. She immediately found a seat against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. Everyone filed in and seemed to resume familiar positions based on the ease and speed of their movements, and soon the entire craft was shaking so violently that her hands flew out to grip the seat beneath her. Was the Quinjet falling apart? Did she leave one coffin for another?

“It’s okay, ma’am. We’re just heading back to the Tower. Can you tell me your name?”

She looked up from where her eyes had been glued to the ground, taking in the blue-suited man as he stood in front of her. His blue eyes were warm, but weary, as if he had seen too much for the few years that he had spent on this Earth. He set his round shield down on the ground with a heavy sigh, running his free hand over the well-groomed beard that softened his golden jawline.

“I don’t have one,” she admitted quietly with a shrug, her voice hoarse from disuse. Mr. Shaw didn’t like when she talked. _That_ wasn’t why he kept her around.

“Why were you there? Can we call someone for you?” he pressed, his broad shoulders slumping forward to match the sadness lacing his clear voice.

“If she does not have a name, it is highly unlikely that she has a family, Captain. Honestly,” the pale man she had noticed earlier chimed in from where he leaned against the wall opposite her with his arms crossed lazily over his midsection. He sounded positively bored with the entire situation.

“What do you suggest, Loki?”

The dark, breathtaking man - Loki? - rolled his eyes before focusing them on her, clearly thinking from the slight furrow to his brow. “Why did they have you captive?”

If she told them, she would just end up in that same situation all over again. That wouldn’t do. She’d rather die than be used for her curse again. Her full lips pressed tightly together and she remained silent.

“How do you know she wasn’t there of her own accord, brother?” A man rivaling Loki in height strolled up to his side, golden and broad where Loki was slender and dark. He wore similar leather armor to his brother and gripped a large hammer tight in his hand - an odd weapon choice, to be sure.

“Look at her,” he commented drily, waving a hand with elegant long fingers in her direction. “She hasn’t bathed in days judging by the dirt on her skin and the state of her clothing. Her skin is pallid and her eyes miss nothing. There is dirt under her fingernails and she hasn’t shown any sadness or remorse for the fallen we left behind. She claims not to have a name, and there wasn’t anything mentioned of her in any of the resources we found for that particular base. No, she was not meant to be found. She was a secret, hidden away. But why?”

“If we can’t find out, we can just get rid of her. Surely Midgard has some sort of program for someone in her situation.”

“No!” The word leapt from her throat before she could stop it, the loudest she’d been in years. She stumbled forward to the Captain and put her hands over a gash stretching across his forearm.

The metallic clicks of guns being drawn sounded out from around her, but she maintained eye contact with the man, pleading with him silently even as she poured the energy that pulsed beneath her veins into his skin. She didn’t know what it felt like, to be on the receiving end of her power, but his eyes fluttered beneath the golden light that emanated from her spindly fingers. Her face didn’t twitch for the slowly growing pain that blossomed on her own skin. She had learned long ago to hide the pain, shove it down deep where the weakness couldn’t betray her.

“Steve?”

Steve gently pulled his arm from her grip, turning his arm this way and that as he inspected her handiwork. His fingers scratched at the dried blood that remained, revealing new, pink skin underneath. “I think she healed me,” he said quietly. He looked up to her with something akin to awe. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t send me back there. Please. If you let me go they’ll find me and I can’t go back to that man. I won’t. Please,” she stammered, shifting her gaze from person to person to try to get her desperation across to anyone who would listen.

“Easy, kiddo, easy.” The metal suited man came out from the front of the ship. “Nobody is making you go anywhere. Let’s get you back to base, get you cleaned up a bit, and we can talk. Sound good?”

She crossed her arms behind her back, settling back onto the seat with a graceless _plop!_ when the Quinjet shuddered around her and she lost her balance. These people seemed to be her only choice. It was that or do what? Wander the streets where they landed in a world she knew nothing about? That was bound to end in disaster. So she nodded mutely in agreement.

The last time she had taken a shower had been days ago, and then it had been cold, rushed and under the watchful supervision of one of Mr. Shaw’s bodyguards. To have an entire bathroom to herself with hot, running water and sweet-smelling soaps was a luxury that she hadn’t imagined possible. She luxuriated in the steamy spray, allowing it to beat out the kinks from her back as she washed her short dark hair until it squeaked between her fingertips. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was bright red and raw, but even that wouldn’t make the offered clothes she slipped into uncomfortable. They’d never given her anything so soft to wear. The entire experience was an exercise in comfort, a hug wrapping her up in the joys of basic necessities that she couldn’t hope to experience again.

Her hands clutched onto the ends of the sleeves as she stepped out of the bathroom to find Tony and Natasha, she’d learned their names on the last bit of the journey to the towering building, waiting for her on a couch at the far side of the room. She padded over to them on bare feet. Her dirtied shoes had been taken by the blond woman who had brought her the clothes, and they hadn’t been replaced. That’d need to be remedied as soon as possible.

“So, Haley, you’re a healer?”

“Haley?” she asked, standing behind the chair that they gestured for her to sit in, shifting back and forth on her feet at odd intervals. Had they found out who she was, where she came from?

“Haley sounds kind of like Healer, so I figured that could be your name until we figure it out. That okay?” Tony asked, peering up at her over blue glasses as he sat forward to prop his elbows up on his knees.

It was better than ‘Healer’, ‘Girl’, or the many other derogatory terms that she’d been called for years, so she’d take it. When she didn’t answer beyond a silent stare, he continued.

“Awesome. Well, since you don’t have a place to go, and we have a spare room, we all thought you could stay here while we get you figured out. Can’t exactly let you go when you seemed so freaked that you were going to be taken back there, can we? But this room would be all yours, and in exchange, I’d like to see what makes your superpowers tick. Do we have a deal?”

“You’re safe here, I promise,” Natasha added, nudging Tony roughly with her elbow. “No one here will step foot in this room once we leave without your consent, and all you have to do is ask for whatever you need. Nothing will happen to you without your permission.”

He nodded, adjusting the glasses on his face before stretching out his hand to her once again. “Of course. You’d be our guest. What do you say, Haley?”

For some reason, Loki popped into her thoughts as she quickly deliberated. Her stomach turned at the memory of his intelligent expression trailing over her body. Curious. And the bed she had walked by on the way to the pair had looked more comfortable than anything she’d ever experienced before. She’d survived worse conditions before. Slowly, she slipped her hand into his, gripping it in as firm of a handshake as she could muster. “Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki shows Haley a bit more of the world she hadn’t had the opportunity to discover. Tony and Bruce begin testing and a painful truth comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Needles, implications of neglect, light descriptions of injury

“Um, FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Haley?”

It was odd to address a room like it was a person, even after Tony had explained in the simplest terms possible the AI that lived in every fiber of the tower that would be her new home. She hadn’t left her room yet, choosing to stare out of the tinted windows at the bustling city below. It was awe-inspiring, to know that so many people existed, going about their lives without any knowledge of the horrors behind her eyelids. Now the city sparkled with glowing lights darting around beneath her, chasing away the darkness from the overcast sky. Did anyone sleep?

Odder still was to be given a name for her own. A moniker not meant to harm her, insult her, or one based solely on the powers that were both a blessing and a curse. Maybe the introduction of a name could be a new start for her. Perhaps a chance to become more than just what she could do for others?

“There isn’t any food in here, and I’m starving. What do they do for food?” she asked, closing her hands over her almost concave stomach as it rumbled loudly as if seconding the meekly asked question.

“In the common area there is a communal kitchen used by all Avengers living on-site. During business hours, various restaurants and the cafeteria are operational for faculty, staff, and visitors on campus,” the pleasant female voice responded, sounding from somewhere over her head.

Haley ran a hand over her spiky short hair, staring at the door as if it would bite her. “And is it business hours?”

“Unfortunately not. But if you follow the map currently on your television screen, it can get you to the kitchen.”

It wasn’t like she had any money, anyway. Didn’t you need money to buy something from a business? Tony had said that whatever she wanted, all she needed was ask, but she doubted that extended to the entire tower. Glancing once at the screen that flickered to life against the wall, she committed it to memory before slipping her socked feet into a brand new pair of sneakers that Pepper had dropped off a few hours ago - along with enough clothing and toiletries to last her an eternity.

Using the hand scanner to leave her room, she hovered in the doorway of her temporary sanctuary, staring out at the shadowed black hallway. Soft light illuminated one end of it, trickling in from the same direction FRIDAY had indicated for the kitchen. She steeled her nerves and anxieties with a deep breath before slowly making her way in that direction, ears perked for any sound that would send her scurrying back to her room. Her body had known hunger before, and it could wait.

A high-pitched whistling sounded from the kitchen when she stepped into a large room which appeared to be solely for relaxing. Various couches and plush armchairs were scattered about in loose formations, some facing bookshelves stacked high with more books than she knew existed, others televisions bigger than her wildest imaginings. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat, large eyes darting to the source of the sound.

Soft footsteps sounded on the shining marble floor, interrupted by the clanking of dishware and a heavy sigh. Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly at an enticing aroma that drifted her way through the air conditioning, and she cursed softly under her breath when the domestic sounds ceased for a split second.

“I will not harm you, little one.”

She was almost positive that voice belonged to Loki, the more outspoken of the group with the intelligent eyes. He hadn’t given her any reason to fear him - yet. Balling her hands up into fists at the shiver of anxiety that coursed down her spine, she stood up as tall as she could manage and followed the sounds and smells into the warmly lit kitchen.

Her assumption had been correct. Loki stood in the middle of the room, swirling a spoon in a steaming cup that clinked quietly with each minute movement. He had exchanged his daunting leather outfit for something much more comfortable. The black, soft-looking pajama bottoms hung low on his hips to reveal a sliver of pale skin just below his fitted white t-shirt. It was startling to see such a change in the intimidating man, who peered at her with a quirked brow.

“Anyone with ears would be able to hear your stomach complaining, and your cheekbones are so sunken it appears painful,” he commented, a hint of sadness lingering on his velvet voice. It wrapped around her, a caress to her frazzled nerves that lowered her hackles just a bit. “What do you like to eat?”

What _did_ she like to eat? Any food she had been given was meager and tasteless, the scraps leftover from Mr. Shaw’s meals or unwanted food to be tossed to the dogs. Food wasn’t meant to be enjoyed, but for fueling her body, keeping her strong enough to heal her owner. Embarrassment flushed down her face and neck as her thoughts came up empty, and her hands twisted together unseen in the confines of her sweatshirt.

If he was bothered by her lack of an answer, he didn’t show it. She got the sense that he didn’t reveal much behind his finely sculpted features. Indifference suited the straight line of his nose and the press of his thin lips. It was… nice to watch the straight line of his back as he bustled about the kitchen, gathering various foods on a plate and pouring a second cup of his steaming beverage. He said nothing, merely tilted his head in her direction before setting the spoils on a vast table with enough seats to fit all of the faces she’d seen earlier on the Quinjet.

She sat at the seat in front of the food at the wave of his hand, shoving her hands beneath her thighs as she watched him take the seat opposite her. He pulled a book from thin air, and she gasped, shrinking back into the wooden chair as if it would swallow her whole. Had he…?

“My apologies,” he purred, the words a warm caress to the fear that had her heart thudding against her ribcage. “Simply a bit of magic, pulling my belongings to me should I need them. Eat.”

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the selection of brightly colored fruits and thick, buttered bread, waiting for him to take the plate from her and laugh at the gall she had to hope for fair treatment. He reached over and plucked a glistening green grape from the bunch on the plate, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly before cracking open the book to peruse the pages.

Magic? He mentioned it so casually, as if it was an understood fact about him. But with how little she knew of the world, it could very well be so. She could take the injuries from others, and that certainly didn’t seem natural. Quickly, she picked several grapes and pushed them into her mouth, resisting the urge to moan at the delicious sweetness that exploded across her tongue. Before she knew it she had the plate held to her chest protectively and she couldn’t eat fast enough. Never had she been given such a veritable feast of such exquisite flavors.

Only when the plate was empty did she look up. Loki acted as if she hadn’t just devoured her meal like a wild animal, regarding his book with quiet curiosity lighting on the furrow of his brow. Her slightly shaking hands gripped her own impossibly delicate cup, warm to the touch from the fragrant beverage within, and she sipped it delicately, afraid of getting burned. The warmth flooded her body, reaching the tips of her toes and unfurling within her with a comfort she was wholly unused to from something as simple as a drink.

“Earl Grey,” he supplied, looking up at her briefly over his book. “The tea. You enjoy it.”

Enjoy. She never got to _enjoy_ anything. But this tea - Earl Grey - and the filling fruit and bread he’d gathered for her, she’d thoroughly enjoyed that. She enjoyed the foreign feeling of fullness in her belly and the layered aroma wafting up from her cradled cup. 

She could even see herself enjoying Loki’s presence, stoic and calm and wholly unbothered by her existence as he allowed her to sit in his shadow. He radiated a strength that she longed to glean for herself.

“I do.” She hummed quietly after taking another warming sip. “Thank you.”

~

“We just want to draw a bit of blood and give you a routine physical. There will be a needle for the blood bit, and then I’ll take your heartbeat with this,” Tony held up a device hanging around his neck, “and check your overall health by just taking a good look at your body. At the end, I’d like to hook up a few monitors and have you do a bit of healing, but only if you’re up for it. How’s that sound?”

Haley shifted uneasily on the cold metal table, casting a quick glance at Loki, who stood still as a statue against the far wall, watching Tony and Bruce with narrowed eyes. He had quietly inserted himself into her presence whenever she had left her room, and it felt right to trust the mysterious man. Loki gave her a quick nod before watching the two men in front of her again, his face lowered so that his long, raven hair framed his face and cast a shadow over the planes of his cheekbones.

“Okay.”

The two men were respectful as they worked around and on her, asking permission before Tony touched the cold metal disc to her chest or Bruce gently squeezed her leg with what looked to be a set of pliers. None of it hurt, and she didn’t even blink when Tony drew several vials of blood from a needle he slid into her arm. Were these men doctors? They didn’t look the part, with Tony’s perfectly styled hair and trimmed goatee, and Bruce’s threadbare button-up shirt that hung on his frame.

A monitor beeped out the drum of her anxious heartbeat for all to hear from sticky pads connected to her chest. Tony had also attached a few to her scalp, all while muttering to himself, “At least she doesn’t have a lot of hair to get in the way.” All of the eyes in the room settled on her, and it took everything she had not to curl up from the weight of their gazes on her bony shoulders.

Bruce stepped in front of her, rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal a small, raised red line across his forearm. He offered her a smile that begged her to relax. “I burnt myself on the oven the other day. Should’ve known better than to try to cook,” he gave a self-deprecating laugh full to the brim with warmth. “Can you heal this?”

Of course she _could_. But burns were her least favorite to handle. They weren’t any harder for her to heal than any other injury, but the raw, itchy skin was her least favorite. Still, these men had offered their home to her, given her food and clothing and medicine and a place of her very own without demanding entrance to it. This small burn that hadn’t even blistered wouldn’t take long to dispatch at all. A small price to pay.

“I’m going to touch you. Okay?” she asked quietly, mimicking the permission that they had asked of her for the entire time she’d interacted with them. Everyone she interacted with had taken to asking her before doing anything, a luxury and kindness she wasn’t accustomed to. How long would that last after they saw the extent of her abilities? Just until one of them got injured beyond what they were willing to deal with. That was how it worked.

“Bruce.” Loki’s warning came from over her shoulder, thick with veiled threats that she wasn’t certain she wanted to know how he would uphold. Even as he had chipped away at the protective shielding around her heart, she still felt the danger that he posed, carried in his confident stride and unhurried movement. So averse to the showy bravado she was accustomed to, guns waved around and threats growled over hands clutching the collar of her shirt. He didn’t need that. His reputation was enough, it seemed.

Bruce nodded and offered her his arm. His breath quickened beneath his shirt when her thin fingers slanted over his skin, and his pulse practically matched her own ringing in her ears. It was all too easy to direct the rush of electricity beneath her skin through her fingertips in the golden glow she’d come to dread for the pain it promised. Sure enough, she bit her bottom lip between her teeth at the stinging sensation that scratched at her forearm where Bruce’s burn once was, hidden by the thick sleeves of her new favorite sweatshirt.

“Incredible,” Bruce breathed, rubbing his hand over the freshly healed skin as if it were some parlor trick. A common reaction when she first healed someone, before they got greedy and jaded to her powers.

Tony pulled out a pair of yellow-tinted glasses and leaned over a computer, typing away furiously as his eyes darted over all the data he could consume.

“Leave us,” Loki commanded, and the heat of him practically pulsed at her back.

“But, I, this is my lab!” Tony stammered, chest puffing out as he stood up and pulled his glasses off to glare at the man whose breath fanned over the top of her head.

“Come on, Tony, we can have FRIDAY send the data to the other lab.” Bruce dragged the other man out with a hand on his arm, closing the door behind them to leave a deafening silence in their wake.

Loki stalked around the metal table until the front of his thighs almost brushed her knees, staring down at her with too many emotions warring on his face to name. He moved slowly, his hand reaching out to encircle her wrist and seize the fabric tucked beneath her clenched fingers into her palm. His fingertips were calloused, rasping against her skin with the heat of his touch as he slowly pulled up the baggy sleeve despite her pulling away in protest.

“Don’t-”

He flipped her now bare arm over to reveal the burn that had etched itself into her skin, dragging his finger just beside it to make the shiny skin catch the light. “You do not _heal_ them. You take their wounds for your own.”

There wasn’t any use denying it with the evidence grasped in his careful touch. “I do.”

A growl ripped from his throat, feral and animalistic and so terrifying that she pulled her knees up to her chest and held them with one arm wrapped around her shins. He released her from his hold, allowing her to cradle her arm to her body against the conflicting singing of her skin from his touch and painful burn she’d brought upon herself.

“Unacceptable.”

And then he stormed away, leaving her curled in on herself on the table, staring at the door with the intoxicating masculine musk of his cologne still teasing at her nose and the incessant beeping of the monitor betraying her conflicting emotions she couldn’t even begin to place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haley learns a bit more about Loki, and the rest of the team learns the price to pay for her powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Blood, description of injuries

“Bananas, strawberries, blackberries, and blueberries with some vanilla greek yogurt and protein powder. My typical pre-workout.”

Haley sipped on the thick purple concoction, sampling the sweetness on her tongue before giving it an approving nod. “It’s tasty. But I’m not going to workout.”

Natasha poured the rest of the blender’s contents into a travel tumbler with a wide straw. She arched a delicate brow and shrugged her shoulders. “We need to put some meat on those bones. Right now you’re all lips and big brown eyes and knobby knees.”

She couldn’t even be offended. It was all true. Scratching idly at the healing burn through her thick sweatshirt, she looked around quickly before narrowing her gaze at Natasha. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

Here goes nothing. “What’s up with Loki? He’s part of your,” a quick pause to think of the word and take a sip, “team. What can he do?”

“Oh, your personal bodyguard?” She hopped up on the counter and munched on a granola bar she had snagged on top of her smoothie. “He’s not human, for starters.”

She froze in tracing a line of condensation down the side of her glass. Surely her eyes were going to fall out of her head they were so wide. “What?”

The blonde shrugged a shoulder. “Him and his brother Thor, they’re from another planet. Well, Loki’s adopted. But they act more like brothers than some blood-related siblings I’ve met. Why don’t you ask him?”

~

Later that evening the entire team went on a mission. Tony had explained that they were going back to Hydra to see if they could find anything on her identity before she was taken, but she wasn’t holding out too much hope for that. It seemed dumb even to her to keep evidence like that just laying around.

Loki had elected to stay behind with her, an odd move as he had been acting cold and distant since he discovered the downside to her abilities a few days prior. It stung and squeezed at her heart painfully, as he had been the first that she felt close to in this whole ordeal.

Finally, after the second hour of her watching reality television dating shows - per Natasha’s suggestion to ‘educate’ her on life she’d missed - she couldn’t take the silence practically radiating off of the stubborn man anymore. She peered over at him hopefully.

“Loki?”

He didn’t look up from the thick book he had cradled in his large hands. But his head tilted to the side in her direction, which she took as answer enough for her to continue.

“Natasha said that you’re not human.” Blunt, straight to the point, and enough to get his attention.

The book closed and disappeared from his grasp. He leaned into the couch, draping his arm across the back so that it almost came in contact with her shoulder, his knees spread as he regarded her with a solid stare that betrayed nothing. “She is correct.”

She curled her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie, tucking them against her chest after wiggling a bit so she faced him. It was easier to watch his face from the new position, to read the minute shifts in his breathtaking facial features before he could hide them away behind an indifferent mask. “But you look human.”

Truth be told he was so pleasant to look at he couldn’t possibly be human, but _that_ didn’t need to be said.

Silence stretched between them as he regarded her with a furrowed brow, unmoving save the rise and fall of his chest beneath his forest green button-up shirt. His voice was careful, controlled, when he finally responded with, “Thor and I were raised in another realm, called Asgard. We called this planet Midgard. We remained there for centuries before living in this pitiful excuse for a tower.”

“And that’s why you can…” she trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip lightly as she tried to think of the right word. Finally, she gave up, and waved her sleeve-covered fists in between them instead.

That earned her a quick chuckle that sounded like sin personified rolling down her spine. “My mother taught me magic, yes. I can do more than send objects to and from my own personal dimension.”

She perked up at the possibilities, eyes shining bright with fascination as she beamed at him. “What else can do you do? Can you show me?”

His whispered reply came from just over her shoulder, skating down her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “What would you like to see?”

She whipped her head around to see him now standing behind her, dressed in the gleaming leathers she had first seen him in, only without the grime and gore. He smirked at her, pointedly looking over her shoulder. Following his gaze, she found Loki just as he was a moment ago, watching her with just the corner of his mouth upturned into a small smile. Her head whipped back and forth, and she reached out to touch both men simultaneously. Smooth skin of the back of Loki’s hand met her shaking fingertips on one side, but the other hand went straight through his sleeve. He flickered, his body shimmering in a captivating green light before disappearing altogether.

“That’s amazing!” she exclaimed, looking back to the real man sitting beside her, blushing when she realized that her fingers had been exploring the smooth, thin skin over the back of his hand absentmindedly. She pulled it back to her chest, tucking her feet underneath her. “What else can you do?”

“You aren’t frightened?” he asked, his velvet voice lined with surprise as he searched her face.

Was she supposed to be? “You haven’t given me any reas-”

Her words were cut off by shouting and doors slamming at the end of the hallway. Without thinking she jumped, pressing herself into Loki’s side and digging her hands into the collar of his shirt as she cowered from the commotion. He shushed her beneath his breath, his hand stretching across her back automatically.

“We need Haley,” Steve said breathlessly, running into the room. He was covered in sweat and dirt, panting heavily and clearly distraught.

Ice flooded her veins. Loki’s grip tightened around her body just enough for her temple to press against the harsh edge of his jaw. 

“Why?” she asked, just as Loki growled, “She will not do it.”

“Natasha’s been shot. The doctors won’t be here for another 10 minutes and she won’t make it until then. You gotta help us.”

So, this was the price she had to pay for living amongst these people. She steeled herself, extracting herself from Loki’s hold to stand up on rigid legs. All she had done was leave one prison for another, one riddled with smiles and food and warmth that all hid the dastardly deeds she was to perform.

But _Natasha_. She had been kind to her, helpful and forthcoming. It was the beginnings of a friendship she could see herself cherishing. Giving that up wasn’t something she was willing to accept. Maybe with her body’s ability to heal much more rapidly than others, she wouldn’t suffer the same fate that Natasha faced. “I’ll do it.”

Loki stood up in a flash and gripped onto her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. His emerald eyes shone with a warring combination of desperation and fury as they drilled into hers. “You do not have to. It could _kill_ you.”

“I do,” she replied, twisting her hand around to squeeze his before taking off after Steve. He was fast, impossibly so, and she hadn’t built up that much strength in the short week that she had been living in the tower. Eventually, he ended up carrying her, holding her to his broad chest with careful arms tucked behind her shoulders and under her knees.

Groans of pain met her ears, strengthening her resolve even as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach at the sight of Natasha, pallid and blood-stained on the metal table in the infirmary. Crimson soaked the ripped black leather on her side, dripping onto the floor to soak her socks where Steve gently set her down before backing away.

“Haley?” Natasha asked weakly, her head rolling on the table to look at the girl who had pressed her hands over her slippery, ruined flesh.

Haley said nothing, gritting her teeth as she called on the powers that had wakened at the sight and sounds of pain and injury before her. Her side split open in a wave of agony so strong that her knees buckled. Strong arms caught her around her chest and beneath her thighs, tugging her away until the connection was broken and the golden light that glowed behind her eyelids dimmed. Weakness weighed heavy on her. Her head fell against the shoulder of whoever was holding her. The warmth of the body beneath her rivaled the blood that soaked her hoodie and jeans with each beat of her heart.

“That’s enough!” The words roared through her body, carrying so much rage that she wanted to shrink away from the source, but that took too much energy. And they smelled so _good_. Like leather and spice and mint beneath the sharp copper tang filling the room. “Do you not see what healing does to her?”

“Fuck, kid.” Tony’s strained curse came from somewhere behind her.

Haley tried to cover her own already-healing wound with her hands, sighing in frustration when her hands were batted away and held in the warm grasp of the one holding her. Her eyes fluttered open to see Loki staring down at her from so close he was almost out of focus, so many emotions she couldn’t grasp simmering beneath the surface of his tightly wound body. “You foolish woman.”

“I heal faster than her,” she countered, closing her eyes as more people flooded into the room. Her initial instinct was to cower and hide from them, but Loki held her tight, and she knew with the truest part of her that he wouldn’t allow more harm to come to her.

Monitors and IVs were hooked up to various parts of her body, poking and prodding and cutting away the hoodie that she loved so dearly to get at her identical wound to Natasha’s on the bed. She was jostled around as Loki moved beneath her, and then she settled upon something soft.

“Can’t you heal yourself, Doc?”

She peeled open her eyes, glancing quickly at her new position on a bed covered in bright white sheets dotted with crimson. Loki stood at her side, arms crossed over his chest and mouth set in a harsh line as he glared daggers at Tony. To his credit, Tony was shifting back and forth on his feet, looking absolutely devastated as his fingers scratched at his immaculately groomed goatee.

“Nope, it doesn’t work that way. But I heal faster than normal people,” she explained, gesturing to her now-bare arm where the burn she had taken from Bruce days ago had faded into new, pink skin that itched like mad. “I owed you guys.”

“Oh no, sweetheart. No,” Tony replied sadly, closing the distance between them to sit on the bed on the opposite side of Loki. “You don’t have to heal any of us. That isn’t the deal here. We never would have asked if we knew what it did to you. That’s not what this is.”

“It’s okay,” she groaned and tried to sit up. Pain lanced through her and she crumbled back against the bed with a frustrated sigh. “I’m used to it.”

“Leave,” Loki hissed, stepping up so that she could see him in her peripheral vision. “I require a moment alone with her.”

“Reindeer Games…”

“I will not harm her,” he snapped, coming around the other side, the side opposite her wound, and gesturing for Tony to move. “Just a moment of privacy.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up in question at Haley, and she nodded her permission. Who was to say that he didn’t just make her disappear to wherever his books went to if he didn’t get his way? She didn’t have much of a choice. She never did.

“Don’t go all silent on me again,” she pleaded, watching him fold his long, elegant body onto the bed where Tony had just vacated. His shirt was stained with blood - her blood - molding to his body to reveal finely shaped muscle. That must be how he lifted her so easily. Loki was _built_. “You’re the closest thing to a friend I have here.”

He cast a critical eye on the bandages wrapped around her middle. “You should not sacrifice yourself for others. It is hardly ever worth it.”

“I-” she scrubbed her hand through her short hair, wincing at the tug of the IV on her wrist. It pumped life-giving blood into her veins, even though she would replenish what she had lost soon enough on her own. “I don’t know any other way to be. These people helped me. I can’t. I can’t lose that.”

“Then you must learn,” he replied sternly, but without the malice she expected dripping from his rich voice. He pulled a folded up blanket from her feet and draped it over her body. “Now, rest, and heal. We can discuss your foolish notions of heroism when you awaken.”

Somehow, even with the man - alien? - staring down at her, she gave in to the fatigue pulling her into the darkness. Heavy and warm, she must have imagined thin fingers curling around hers just before she drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha makes Haley an offer, Haley and Loki share another late-night conversation during a storm, and a plan is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of previous injuries, implications of previous abuse

“How are you feeling?

Haley squinted and blinked away her slumber, lifting her hand to shield her eyes against the glare of bright, sterile lighting above her. A quick mental check of her body with a few small twists and stretches, and she could fairly confidently answer Nat with a grumbled, “Probably better than you. Healing just as I always do.”

The bed shifted, and Haley finally opened her eyes enough to clearly see the lethal blonde perched on the side of her bed, looking a bit worse for wear with dark circles under her eyes and a gray tinge to her skin. Somehow she was still gorgeous, which was honestly just unfair. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Color stained her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes to her hands, pleased and confused to see that someone had scrubbed the blood from them while she had been sleeping. Probably the same person who changed her into the itchy, thin gown that scratched against her skin. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. You could have died.” Nat winced a bit when she reached up to brush a bit of hair out of her eyes, dropping her hand to her side. “Once I’m healed up, I want to help you, too. Say a bit of fight training? I don’t want you to ever need it, but in my experience, it… helps.”

She didn’t know Natasha’s past. She didn’t know anything about her besides the fact that she wasn’t gifted any superhuman abilities like her or Loki, or given some sort of serum to make her _different_ , like Bucky and Steve. But there was wisdom in her brown eyes, shadowed with pain and a darkness that worked to pull her full lips into a frown and knit her brow together. Whatever she had faced before living in this tower and fighting for the good of others, it had given her an understanding of the unease that lingered constantly at the back of Haley’s mind. That much was clear. 

“I’d like that, yeah. Thanks.”

Nat nodded her head, standing up slowly and heading toward the door. Just before she left she waved her hand at the bedside table, calling out, “I caught Loki leaving that for you this morning.”

It was a plush black hoodie, the exact same as the one that had been cut from her body the day before, freshly washed and still warm from the dryer. She reached over to hug it to her chest, smiling at the glow that stretched within her at the familiar scent of spice and mint lightly perfuming the fabric. 

She would have known who had gifted it to her even if Nat hadn’t spilled the beans.

~

They were so high in the sky the thunder rattled her teeth just before each blinding flash outside the floor-to-ceiling windows making up an entire wall of her room. The dark sky rolled just beyond her eyes, illuminated with frequent lighting to reveal heavy clouds thick with rain that pelted the glass in fat, heavy drops. It was too much. To go from a life spent underground, rarely seeing the sun, to practically living inside the vicious storm was proving too frightening to handle alone.

And sleep? Out of the question. Not even with the comfort of her hoodie wrapped around her and all of the blankets cocooning her in the middle of her expansive, too soft bed could she keep her eyes closed once the deafening boom and crack of the storm battered against her ears.

She left the solitude of her bedroom, a sliver of hope guiding her to the living area where she yearned to find a distracting companion. If her efforts were futile, at least the space was bigger, and it wouldn’t feel as if she was right in the nasty elements. Her silent prayers, given to any deity that would listen, were answered in the form of Loki, draped across the couch and watching television with concentrated curiosity.

“My brother appears to be quite angry this evening.”

She scurried over to sit beside him, crossing her arms over her stomach and balling her hands up into fists in the fabric of her overly long sleeves. “Thor?”

Loki paused the television, dropping the remote onto his lap before running a hand through the midnight black locks spilling over his shoulders with a nod. “The God of Thunder, as he was known on Asgard, and as some of the ancient Midgardians worshipped him. What became a trip seeking freedom and adventure in our youth accidentally started a bit of a following amongst the Nordic people, centuries ago. Quite fascinating, really.”

She blinked. “So he can’t really control Thunder. It’s just a name.”

“Oh, no, he most certainly can. Lightning is more his forte, though. I am sure if you ask him he would be more than happy to demonstrate for your entertainment,” Loki corrected her with just a hint of bitterness lacing his tone.

“But he can’t do magic like you? He isn’t like you?”

Just then a particularly close bout of thunder shook the tower, and she squeaked, pressing herself further into the back of the couch so that her leg rested along the length of his and the back of her head brushed against his hand. His thigh was warm and firm through the combined layers of fabric of her pajama bottoms and his jeans.

The devilish smirk that he directed her way made her tummy flutter oddly beneath her hands. “No one is like me, little one.”

She didn’t know a man’s voice could go that low and sound with such promise, soothing like cool satin and teasing her skin into tingling goosebumps. Normally, any deep voice she heard was laced with threats and growls, demanding things of her that she didn’t want to give. But, if Loki was seeking something with that heated tone, some instinctual part of her knew that it would be _good_. His eyes shone as his hand dropped from behind her to curl over her shoulders, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over her arm.

“The storm cannot reach you in this tower,” he assured her, glancing up at the deluge muddling the bright lights of the city that never slept. “You are safe.”

They all kept repeating that: safe. Sometimes it didn’t sound like a word anymore. Like it had lost all meaning from how often it was repeated behind sad smiles and heavy sighs. She knew they meant it, but it didn’t silence the nagging doubt at the back of her mind that couldn’t place Mr. Shaw with the still faces she had climbed over during her escape.

But it was quieted when she was curled up next to Loki beneath the strong weight of his arm, searching his expression for the telltale signs of pity. _Pity_ made her feel weak, like some broken doll with too big brown eyes and full lips that had its hair shorn off by a vengeful toddler who didn’t know how to properly play with the nice things it had stolen. 

But the understanding that permeated his lingering stare?

That made her soft, warm and content and _hopeful_. For what, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t have a name for the tiniest flicker of longing that itched in her fingertips. Could his silken hair soothe that need?

Where were these thoughts coming from?

She had to blame the reality television Sam and Darcy had insisted she watch - to "teach her the ways of the world", they’d claimed. Or maybe it was the soap operas Nat had suggested.

“I know that you have not seen much of this realm. I was watching a program concerning the Nordic nations I spoke of earlier. Would you care to join me?”

It was better than sitting in the darkness of her room all alone. And Loki wasn’t terrible company, even with the unnameable feelings stirring in the pit of her belly. “Sure.”

He restarted the television before disappearing for a few minutes, leaving her to stare at the lush green fields, black sand beaches, and jagged cliffs cut into mountains of snow and ice that sparkled so brilliantly she thought she’d never seen anything more breathtaking. The din of him rummaging around stopped just before he came back to the couch, settling back against her and handing her a plate of treats and a steaming cup.

“Hot cocoa with miniature marshmallows and whipped cream, and double fudge brownies,” he supplied, taking the plate and balancing it on both of their thighs.

She couldn’t stifle a moan when the sweet sugary dessert melted on her tongue, closing her eyes to savor the taste.

“I thought you might like those,” he mused, taking a bite of his own brownie before turning his attention back to the dancing green and blue lights across the night sky on the screen. “Ah, northern lights.”

“Are they real?”

He smiled gently at the awed expression on her face and gave her a small nod. “They are. I will ensure you see them one day.”

~

“Absolutely not.”

Loki’s rage tensed along his back as he faced down the entire Avengers team.

She had faint memories of brightly colored pictures on a beige wall, young men dressed in outrageous outfits and all posing seriously for the camera, women grouped together and pouting with silver eyeshadow and wavy hair. The _Avengers_ reminded her of those distant images, grouped together with solemn expressions on their faces.

“I gotta side with Loki on this one,” Tony agreed, taking off his glasses and shoving them into the pocket of his jeans, following the fidgeting gesture with both hands so that his shoulders almost touched his ears. “She isn’t bait.”

“It’s the best shot we have of luring that asshole out of hiding. He’s going to want her back.”

She didn’t know anything about the black, eye-patch sporting man separated from the rest of the gang. He had strolled in, called for a meeting, and then waited impatiently for everyone to congregate in the living area. But his voice was hard, his black suit - stark, and his stare - cold. It reminded her too much of her former owner - the topic of their discussion.

“Fury.”

The unknown man - Fury - stood up and leveled Nat with a frigid glare. “Get her ready. We’ll catch this bastard.”

And then he left just as quickly as he’d come, pulling out his phone to make a call, effectively cutting off any further attempt at talking some sense into him.

It was hard to breathe against the terror that seized her like a vice. Nat, Steve, and Tony all approached her at the same time, but it was Loki that turned and reached her first, tugging on her wrist until her trembling frame was tucked securely beneath his arm.

“I won’t let him touch you.”

And somehow, she believed him, mentally holding onto the fervently whispered promise with a death grip that only rivaled that of her fingers clutching at the folds of his shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training with Nat doesn’t go as planned, and Fury’s plan is put to the test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of previous abuse and neglect, minor panic attack

“Okay, stand with your feet about shoulder-width apart, and turn a bit to the side. Yeah, that’s it. Keep your thumbs on the outside of your fists. Now, use the momentum of turning your torso to put some weight behind your fist, and punch _through_ the bag.”

The bandages wrapped over Haley’s knuckles and wrists were uncomfortable with the sweat that slicked over her skin. She couldn’t remember ever exercising, ever having a cause to break a sweat or work so hard in her life. Sure, Steve and Sam were sparring on the other side of the gym, the sounds of their blows deafening, acting as if this was just another day at the office. And for them, it was. But, to someone unused to the strain, it proved a monumental effort to fight the fatigue trembling in her limbs as she delivered punch after punch to the heavy bag that Nat supported from behind.

Haley had healed completely from her adopted wound in the span of several days - not too terribly long considering Loki had stopped her from taking the entirety of Nat’s injury. Natasha, on the other hand, was still taking it easy. Which, for an Avenger, apparently meant settling for running several miles on a treadmill and lifting her body weight in dumbells instead of kicking ass with Clint.

“You can’t walk around in tape all day every day, so it’ll hurt more, when - if, it happens.”

And that little slip-up made Haley’s entire body seize, her throbbing hands spread out against the woven fabric of the bag to tether her to reality. _When._ When she was going to have to face Mr. Shaw again. That’s what she was preparing for, beating up a bag of sand with arms as thick and tough as overcooked spaghetti.

“Ah shit, Hales, I’m sorry.”

Small fingers clutched hers after she dropped to her knees on the cushioned, sticky mat beneath her. She stared at them, one set littered with callouses and scars, the other flushed, but baby soft and lined with blue-green veins beneath almost translucent skin. Panic constricted around her chest so that it felt like her rapidly drumming heart would burst through her ribcage and tear her struggling lungs into ribbons with the fragments left behind.

“He’s on a mission.”

“If we don’t call him he’s gonna be pissed. You wanna deal with that?”

Cool glass pressed against her ear.

“Are you alright?”

The rough timbre of Loki’s voice didn’t sound quite right through the small speaker of the phone. She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m okay.”

An obnoxious tone sounded through the phone, and she tilted her head away from it with a grimace, closing her eyes. Everything was fine. She was in Stark Tower. She was surrounded by friends who would protect her. Mr. Shaw couldn’t reach her here.

“Darling.”

The hands holding hers retreated, replaced in an instant by a warmer, larger pair not a moment later. Deft fingers worked at unraveling the bandages protecting her knuckles. Her eyes opened to see Loki kneeling in front of her, still dressed in his leather armor.  


All she could think to mumble out was, “How’d you get here so fast.”  


Loki tossed the wrappings away, lifting her chin up with two fingers to thoroughly examine the distraught expression on her face. “Magic.”  


The fear slowly seeped out of her at his attentions but she still couldn’t catch her breath or calm her speeding heart. Strangely, she couldn’t help but long to rub away the lines that crinkled between his brows. “You were on a mission. You’ll get in trouble.”

“You needed me.” He stood up and helped her to her feet with his hold on her hands. He didn’t let them go after she was standing, maintaining his firm grip as he led her out of the room. “You need a sports beverage and a snack. It wouldn’t do for you to overwork yourself before this evening.”

~

Had she overworked herself, or was she destined to feel this terrible regardless of her disastrous session with Nat?

Even with the soothing feeling of makeup smoothing over her skin and a brush running through her hair (there wasn’t much else to do with what little length she had), she couldn’t ignore the anxiety that weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach. It rolled through her and threatened to force itself around the lump in her throat. But practice made perfect, and she’d had years of hiding many a negative emotion and sensation.

“If you don’t stop sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, I’m gonna make you look like a clown.” Nat bopped her cheek lightly with the fluffy end of a makeup brush.

“Sorry.”

A brush painted over her lips in long, soft strokes. “We’ll all keep an eye on you. Fury has backup waiting on the floors just above and below. Even Loki is going to be there. You won’t be alone.”

All those words were _meant_ to reassure her. But when she opened her eyes after shimmying into the dress Wanda had loaned her, she felt anything but confident in how the evening was going to go.

“I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

The crimson dress molded to her skin, dipping down in the back to show a considerable amount of her spine. Lace encased her arms to her wrists and all she wanted to do was tug the sleeves down so she could grasp the material in her palms. She’d never shown so much skin. Did anyone really need to see the lower halves of her thighs? That was hardly her most pressing concern, however, when she factored in her inability to walk in the black heels Nat had helped her wobble into. She felt like a toddler, desperately attempting to balance with each step.

“That’s the point. Come on, the faster we get you out there the faster this is all done with.”

It took every ounce of courage that she had within her to step into the spacious ballroom several floors down from their living quarters. The lights, scattered around the room in glowing columns and hanging from the ceiling in interesting modern fixtures, were just warm enough to contrast the black marble floor and dark walls. The music from the DJ vibrated through her bones to ratchet up her heartbeat until it matched the thudding bass. More people than she had ever seen in her life milled about, either dancing or talking or some combination of the two.

Tony had told her to make sure to be seen by as many people as possible. What did that entail? How was she supposed to act natural, while still making sure she was noticed, when she didn’t even know what ‘natural’ was? She’d never been to a party before!

“Perhaps you should first procure a drink?”

She stopped staring at a stunning woman in a dress that looked to be made out starlight, glancing quickly over at the owner of the naggingly familiar voice. It had sounded just enough like Loki to pique her interest, although there was a softness to the baritone that didn’t quite fit. Nor did the owner of the lovely accented suggestion. The man peering at her through brown, thin-rimmed glasses shot her a mischievous grin. He had auburn hair that curled at the nape of his neck, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache that covered the rosy skin of his jaw.

But the eyes. Even though they were a twinkling light blue, she’d recognize that playful and earnest expression anywhere.

“Loki?”

He closed the remaining distance between them, steering her toward one of the many bars set up around the edges of the room with a gentle hand on her exposed middle back. It was as if all she could focus on was his touch pouring heat through her skin to flow through her like molten sunlight. Even walking was a bit easier with him brushing against her side, as if he lent her a bit of his strength and surety while guiding her along.

“I desired to be close to you for the evening, and my standard appearance tends to draw more attention than would suit the delicacy of the mission,” he explained quietly, his head ducked down low so his words were delivered just above her ear.

Ignoring the flush that spread up her neck at his admission - he _just_ wanted to protect her - she settled her trembling hands on the gleaming dark wood of the bar. She took the short, wide-mouthed glass that he’d ordered, crinkling her nose at the slightly bitter condensation that tickled against her lips. “What is this?”

“Sparkling water. It will appear as if you are imbibing, but you will maintain a level head.” He angled his head toward the dance floor. “I will be close behind.”

At his clear suggestion that she continue on with the plan, she started moving about the room, cracking a smile that didn’t reach her eyes whenever she made eye contact with someone. The bitter drink bubbled unhappily in her stomach, and she couldn’t stop herself from fiddling with the orange slice perched on the rim. It was expected for the Avengers to attend the party, so she was safe in acknowledging them whenever they’d cross paths. A friendly nod from Bucky, a squeeze of her hand from Natasha, a quick hug around her shoulders from Tony and a smile from Pepper, they all helped to tamp down the edge of her nerves.

She caught the barest hint of Loki’s voice, sweetened with his disguise, at random intervals. Pleasant laughter and an airy chuckle would meet her ears over the sounds of the party, reassuring her that he was keeping his promise of remaining closeby. How she longed to change her appearance as he could, melt into the skin of another, to avoid it all and enjoy the evening. Perhaps learn how to dance…

“Your drink seems to be empty, sweetheart. Care for another?”

She snapped out of her self-pitying reverie, sighing heavily at the waiter who offered her a flute of sparkling golden liquid. She suspected it to be alcohol, but maybe a sip wouldn’t hurt to calm her down?

“Thanks.”

The crystal was refreshingly cool grasped in her hands. She sank against the wall behind her, lifting it to her rouge-painted lips to take a drink, when it was ripped from her grip.

“Don’t drink that,” Loki urged her, shielding her from view of the room with his body placed squarely in front of her. He cut his eyes at the drink between them, turning it in his grasp and sniffing the contents.

Tony, with Pepper right behind him, quickly skirted through the unaware guests, coming up to Loki’s other side with alert, tight eyes and hands flexing in front of him. “What’d he look like?”

“White button-up shirt, but it wasn’t pressed like your staff. Fair skin, brown hair and eyes, with scuffed black trainers and a skinny black tie. _Not_ a bow tie.” Loki handed the glass off to Stark, searching Haley’s face with jaw set.

“Fury’s on it. Good catch there, Reindeer Games. Hales, you okay?”

Why would Loki keep her from trying the drink? What could’ve been in there? Poison? Drugs? Mr. Shaw didn’t like to discuss business in front of her, but she knew that Hydra had created some awful weapons that could be easily hidden in a bit of liquid. 

_Oh._

They’d found her. Was he here? Here to drag her back to another dank room, living out her days in endless agony and darkness, taking his injuries so he could commit more atrocities in the world? Her eyes skittered over the guests frantically even as the room seemed to fold in around her. Her quick breaths did nothing to take in any oxygen into her constricted lungs and she gasped, curling in over her arms wrapped around her stomach. She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t.

The striped blue fabric of Loki’s suit was the last thing she saw before he straightened her up with steady hands on her shoulders, tugging her into him until her face was pressed into his neck, instructing her to close her eyes.

Coldness, sharper than anything she’d ever felt before, rushed over her for a split second before the sounds of the party instantly stopped. The resulting silence was so jarring that she backed away from Loki, expecting to hit the wall of the ballroom; instead, her knees touched the lip of her favorite couch in the recreation area. She sank down onto it, focusing on slowing her breathing and her heart rate as she stared up at the bespeckled version of her closest friend.

“How can I assist you?” he asked, kneeling down in front of her, his hands hovering in the space between him and her knees.

Only when the worried scrunch of his brows blurred did she realize that tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes. She clenched them tight, refusing to give in to her panic, waving her hands in his general direction. “Can you just, be you, again? It’s too weird. I need _you._ ”

More silence beyond her ragged breaths. And then gloriously soft fabric slipped over one arm, around her back, and then over the other. Her hoodie. She opened her eyes to watch Loki adjusting the cuffs around her wrists, tugging them down until her fingers could close over the edges, before sitting on the couch next to her. He looked like himself again, handsome and dark with piercing green eyes that searched her face with so much concern she thought her heard might split in two.

“I could fetch a bit of water, or chocolate. Would you prefer to get out of that dress and into something more comfortable? I promise that you are safe-”

His mouth hung open, all speech ceasing when she reached out to take his hand into her lap, lacing their fingers together. She needed the physical reminder of his presence. The warmth of his grasp and the gentle rub of his thumb over the thin skin on the back of her hand - initiated after a few moments further of him staring - did more to calm her than anything else.

“Can we just sit like this for a minute?” She hated how she sounded, weak and shaky to match the knocking of her knees, but it couldn’t be helped.

Too close. They had gotten too close and he wasn't close enough.

He shifted and let out a deep breath. Their sides pressed together from thigh to shoulder. His other hand rested over theirs and squeezed tenderly. “Anything you wish.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haley experiences New York City for the first time, and the contents of the champagne are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this chapter took so long to get to y'all! Work honestly kicked my disabled ass six ways to Sunday. Thank you for sticking around and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

“Your cheeseburger with french fries, and pancakes and bacon for you. Can I get you anything else?”

Haley was too busy ogling the food in front of her to answer, inhaling the sweet and savory aroma of fried goodness that made her mouth water at the deliciousness it promised. Loki must have said something in response while she was lost in the grumbling of her stomach, because the waitress walked away.

“Does it look satisfactory?” Loki asked quietly, drawing her attention from the golden fries in front of her to his face. “If it isn’t to your liking, you can order something else.”

She shifted on the squeaky faded plastic seat of their booth to lean forward over the table, gripping the massive burger in her hands. Could her jaw even open wide enough for that? With a bit of careful maneuvering, it could. It took everything in her not to moan at the dance of salt and fat and crisp fresh vegetables over her tongue. Not wanting to waste a moment, she took a bite of a fry as soon as she swallowed the first, giving Loki a thumbs up and the best smile she could muster while chewing.

When Loki had caught her staring longingly out the windows earlier that day, he had declared that he was taking her out to see the city. She had been cooped up for far too long and would be safe with him as an escort. It took some convincing, Haley and Tony both were on edge after the nearly-successful attack at the party a few nights prior, but the call to the city was too plain on her face. Tony relented, but not before implanting a tracker the size of a grain of rice into her bicep. It stung a bit, but sitting in a booth in a diner with Loki, smelling cooking oil and burnt coffee and watching people go about their busy day so close up, she decided it was worth it.

And then the _pancakes_. Drenched in sticky sweet syrup and fed to her from Loki’s fork and paired with greasy bacon, she was grateful for his stubborn insistence. It was nice, to feel normal, just enjoying lunch out with a friend. There was a first for everything, and this wouldn’t be the last.

“What else would you like to experience, little one?” Loki slipped Haley’s hand into the crook of his elbow once they were finished and he had paid, sticking close to the exterior of the building so as not to get in the way of passing pedestrians.

But their positioning seemed unnecessary given the wide circle of personal space left untouched around them. Those that took a moment to look at the imposing man dressed in all black to match his hair, which was pulled back to better emphasize the razor’s edge of his jawline and cheekbones, quickly skirted around the pair. She watched them curiously for a second, puzzled at the frightened, nervous, and in one case, downright angry looks he garnered. He’d been nothing but kind and protective of her since they’d met. What had he done before then?  


A faint breeze blew through from the alley to their left and she crinkled her nose at the foul odor of rotting garbage. “Maybe somewhere nicer smelling?”

He chuckled low in his throat and turned them down the street, leading her along at a slow, leisurely pace that allowed her plenty of time to take in all that New York City had to offer. “I know just the place.”

The sun was warm on her skin as she and Loki stood in the middle of a vast green park - Central Park, Loki had informed her - watching ducks paddle about happily in a pond. The breeze, scented with flowers and dry earth, ruffled the unruly pieces of hair sticking up from her head. She leaned into Loki’s side from her place on his arm. The physical contact sated a deep-seated ache in her bones she hadn’t known existed. It was a luxury that had been denied her for most of her life, and she was keen on making up for lost time. She’d never thought that she would have such an opportunity. To just exist in a moment of calm with someone who she truly cared about and who held the same feelings for her.

“Would you like to feed them?” Loki’s quiet request broke her from her reverie.

“We can do that?” she asked, a tinge of hope liting her voice. She bounced on her toes with a smile stretching from ear to ear, all directed at his smug grin.

“It pays to be prepared for all possibilities.” He held out his hand in front of them, close to their bodies, and a small container of oats appeared in his palm. “Go on, then.”

Happiness bubbled up within her and she grabbed the oats from his outstretched hand to run down to the bank. The only thing that kept her from tumbling into the water was Loki’s firm hold on her waist, steadying her as she leaned out as far as she could to toss the food into the water. The ducks flocked to the space in front of her to quack loudly for more treats. Once the suppy was finished she turned in Loki’s hands to ask him for more, stopping when she caught the fondness that had softened his gaze considerably.

It tugged at her heart in ways she hadn’t experienced before. Butterflies fluttered low in her tummy and warmth spread throughout her limbs to the drum of her heartbeat that echoed in her ears. The sunlight caught his hair as it tumbled over his shoulders to reveal pieces that appeared almost blue at the tilt of his head. Hesitantly, she reached up, brushing a stray lock back that had fallen over one of his eyes to hide the brilliant green from her searching gaze. He remained still as the statue that he resembled beneath her hand, the taut muscles of his torso unyielding to her grounding touch.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, the thought somehow slipping through the filters in her brain, as if the knowledge was so true in her soul it couldn’t be helped.

Loki stiffened and looked out at the pond over her shoulder with his lips pressed tightly together. “I am not.”

She reached up with the hand not centered on his chest, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back down to her. Written in the draw of his brows and the set of his jaw was such a bare vulnerability that panged in her aching heart. “You _are_. The inside of you, the good and kind man, alien, whatever. It shines through. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“That list is not the lengthiest,” he countered.

She shifted her grasp from his jaw to the ends of his hair, tugging just enough that it coaxed a smile onto his face. “Hush and accept the compliment.”

Loki carefully pulled her flush against him with the wrap of his arms around her waist and shoulders to splay the fingers of one hand in her hair. She curled into him, tucked beneath his chin, closing her eyes against the press of his smooth shirt into her cheek. It was easy to lose herself in the rhythmic breaths that pushed his chest against her. If allowed, she’d spend forever in his comforting hold, scented with spice and warmth and something uniquely _Loki_ that she couldn’t name but would be able to identify anywhere. It didn’t quiet the rolling energy in her tummy, if anything it made it louder, but she found that the rub of her fingers over his back was a suitable outlet for it.

And then, just when she pulled away to look up to him, someone barrelled into them, knocking her from his hold. Pain flashed on her side where she'd been hit, but thankfully Loki's fast reflexes kept them both from tumbling into the water.

"Watch where you tread, simpleton!" Loki shouted even as he carefully righted her and checked her dirtied knees for injury.

The man just waved at the headphones in his ears, as if that voided any use of sight he had, before running away.

"Wait here," he instructed, smoothing a hand down her arm even as he glared at their attacker. "I must have a word with him."

She quickly snagged his hand and laced their fingers together, stopping his wrathful strides before they could begin. "I'm okay. It was an accident. Let's go for a walk before we head back?"

It was a long walk back to Stark Tower, especially with a stop for ice cream, but she was happily licking away at the cone Loki had purchased for her when they stepped into the blissfully air-conditioned lobby. She was taking care of a drip that had rolled down her thumb when Loki cleared his throat, pulling her attention from the melting sweet treat to Tony standing in front of them.

“We figured out what was in the booze.”

By the time they had all hurried up to his lab, her appetite had vanished. She dumped the half-eaten cone in the trash as she and Loki followed Tony through his maze of whirring machines and flashing gadgets to his office located through a door at the back of the room. This office was clearly not shown to guests, each flat surface covered in paperwork, bits of machinery in disrepair, and quite a few books littered with colorful tabs among their many pages. He pushed a good deal of it to the side of his desk with a forced exhale through his nose, turning around the monitor of his computer so that it faced where they stood in front of him.

What resembled a swirling ladder spun in front of the screen, as well as quite a few graphs and a scattering of scanned handwritten notes. “So, what were they trying to do?”

Tony pulled his yellow-tinted glasses from his face, chewing on the earpiece for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest. “Your body has a very high level of platelets, white blood cells, and a certain protein all to help you heal the wounds that you take on. That’s also the reason why you rarely ever get sick, correct?”

Intimidated by the show of knowledge, Haley nodded silently. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been sick, and all had happened when she was recovering from healing a particularly gruesome and intensive wound.

“We added what we found in the champagne to the sample of blood you gave us, and it rapidly killed off the majority of the extra good bits inside of you.”

“How rapidly?” Loki asked, stern at her side, glaring at the screen as if he understood the readings and wanted nothing more than to wipe them from existence.

Tony sniffed and shook his head back and forth. “From our tests, it looks to be dependent on the dosage of the serum we found. Anywhere from one day to several weeks, judging by our readings and the data FRIDAY ran.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t fully grasp what they were saying, and the effort of remaining standing while trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that the two brilliant men already had was too great. She sank into the wrapper covered chair in front of her, smoothing her sweaty hands down her thighs. “I don’t understand.”

Tony knelt down in front of her to meet her eyes that had fallen to the floor. “You wouldn’t have superhuman healing abilities anymore. As long as you didn’t get sick, you wouldn’t even know that anything was different until you tried to heal someone and took longer than normal to stitch yourself back together. And if that injury was something like what happened to Nat the other day?”

Two hands, heavy and strong, settled on her shoulders to match the weight that threatened to crush her chest. “She would die,” Loki growled.

“She would die.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Haley's past haunts her dreams, and she seeks out Loki for comfort. Then, she finds a way to join the gang on their next mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is an excerpt from 'He Giveth His Beloved Sleep' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

_”Tell us what happened, sweetheart.”_

_It was hard to focus. Her ankle hurt worse than it ever had before. Worse than the time she fell in the parking lot and scraped her hands. It was black and blue and swollen and her parents told her not to move it. As if she could without screaming. Swallowing down the tears that stuck in her throat, she wiped her face and gripped her fists around the tissues the doctor had given her. “Cassidy fell. She was screaming. I touched her and she stopped crying. I just wanted her to feel better. Now my ankle hurts.”_

_She couldn’t make out the blurry faces of her mother and father standing next to the paper-lined exam table she sat on, but looking at them made her feel safe. Her mother reached out and smoothed her hand down the back of her head. It was warm and gentle and she leaned into it with her eyes closed._

_“Nobody saw it. We don’t know what happened.”_

_“We’ll take her back and set it, wrap it, the whole nine. In the meantime, you should call this number if anything strange happens again.”_

Haley’s eyes blinked open, slowly piecing together the shadowy shapes in her dark room as the remnants of her dream lingered at the edges of her mind. Had that been a memory, or was it just a nonsensical imagining? She sat up slowly in the plush bed, untangling her legs from the sheets to pull her knees to her chest as she let her eyes get used to what little cool blue light streamed in through the windows. Anxiety weighed heavy in her chest and she knew that rest wasn’t going to come so easily to her with the questions that nagged at her sleep-addled mind.

Had those really been her parents? The voices were vaguely familiar, an itch she couldn’t scratch, and that touch had soothed an ache deep in her soul that had lingered for as long as she'd lived. If only she could remember their faces… And where were they now? Why was she just now getting these dreams?

As quietly as she could manage, she got out of bed and pulled on her black hoodie over her tank top and sleep shorts. Loki had always gotten her a warm drink when she couldn’t sleep; maybe he’d still be awake to do it again. The chilly floor bit at her bare feet as she padded out of her room to head to the kitchen. It was dark and silent as a tomb, the only light coming from the dormant appliance clocks that read 1:48 AM. For once, Loki wasn’t up watching television or reading or making a late-night sugary snack.

She stood in the middle of the open kitchen, shifting back and forth, rubbing the inside of the sleeves of her hoodie in her palms. The thought of returning to her room empty-handed did cross Haley’s mind. It did. But she didn’t want to face the questions alone, and Loki’s calming presence would be so welcome. He had a way of quieting her racing mind that she so desperately wanted in that moment. Chewing lightly on her full bottom lip, she shuffled to his bedroom door, hesitating with her hand pressed against the cool metal. Waking him seemed selfish and cruel if he was truly asleep. She groaned under her breath in frustration and leaned her forehead against the doorframe. But he was always so patient and kind with her. Just the thought of his soothing voice easing her doubts had her heart slowing in her chest.

 _Just do it._ She knocked quietly on the door, deciding that if he was awake he would hear it and answer, and if he wasn’t, then she would snag a bar of chocolate and return to her room. There was always some sort of mindless program on television to chase away the shadows. When she couldn’t hear any shifting or rustling on the other side, she assumed he was asleep, and she turned and began heading back to the kitchen.

“Little one?”

The warm glow of light from his open door sent her long shadow stretching across the hallway. She looked back to find him leaning against the doorframe, his pale torso a stark contrast to the dark wall and the tumble of his midnight-black hair over his shoulders. Her eyes drank in the sight of his lithe torso laid bare and all the moisture left her mouth. She dug her fingernails into her jacket for some semblance of control over the rush of heat pooling deep in her belly.

Concern tightened his dark green eyes. “Are you alright?”

Why did she suddenly feel so flustered? Her arms crossed over her stomach and she stared down at his bare feet. It was strangely endearing to see him so casually dressed, or undressed, really, in just a pair of black silk boxer shorts. “I had a weird dream… I didn’t know who else to talk to about it. I just don’t want to be alone.”

The beam of light widened as he stepped away from the doorway. She looked up to see him holding his hand out to her further inside his room. “I’m honored that you came to me. Would you like to come in?”

The soft yellow light from his bedside lamp illuminated the softest looking green duvet she had ever seen in her life on his bed, mussed from where he had obviously been lying in it before she interrupted. The walls were hidden by rows upon rows of bookshelves full to the brim with books of various thicknesses and languages. There were so many that they spilled onto his nightstand and the small coffee table in front of a long, black leather couch. It was very masculine, and very Loki, with touches of green and gold amongst the black to keep it from looking too monochromatic.

But the most important part was the man who laced their fingers together. The door closed automatically behind her with a soft _whoosh_ that made the heat radiating off of his body, subtly spiced with his cologne, all the more intoxicating and intimate as he drew her close to him. His free hand adjusted the dropped shoulder of her hoodie back where it belonged before resting on her upper arm with a gentle squeeze.

“Would you prefer the couch or the bed? We can discuss it, if you’d like, or we can simply sit together. I was reading Midgardian poetry when you knocked. I could read it to you?”

Her heart thudded against her ribcage at the tenderness in his eyes. To be honest, she didn’t want to actually talk about what she’d dreamt about. It was a distant thought at that point, shoved to the furthest reaches of her mind at the rasp of Loki’s calloused thumb over the back of her hand. Quieting her unexplainable nerves, she tilted her head toward the bed. “Maybe the bed? Just for a little bit. I don’t want to keep you, but I don’t want to be alone. I could read over your shoulder.”

“We can do much better than that,” he countered quietly, releasing her hand to turn the lamp off with a lazy wave of his hand. He pulled a match from a drawer on his nightstand and lit a candle that had clearly seen some use from previously burnt wicks. Vanilla and cedarwood filled the room at the flickering flames that lent warmth to Loki’s creamy, unblemished skin.

At the sight of her wide eyes and quickened breathing, he pulled the blankets back for her to climb into the bed. “You are safe with me. I promise.”

She wasn’t afraid, no, not of him. Never of him. But the stirring of need deep inside of her was confusing and altogether new, even though she knew the basis of it. He was beautiful, a living and breathing work of the most discerning sculptors, even when skin that she had thought to be silky smooth turned out to be marred with small scars. She leaned against his side beneath the curl of his arm around her back, allowing her fingertips to trace the ridged flesh scattered across his body. His breath hitched at the featherlight map they plotted over his ribcage. That tiny catch, that delicious half sound, had her pouted lips parting with the intense need to taste that puckered flesh.

He cleared his throat and shifted beneath her, crossing his legs underneath the sheets and rubbing her back lightly. The full force of her desire shamed her, Loki was her _friend_ , and she hid the flush of her cheeks by tucking her head underneath his chin. The only way to stop the itch in her fingers to continue their exploration across the planes and valleys of his torso was to wrap her arms around him and press her hands into the cut of muscles on his side. He was so wiry, steel bands beneath supple skin, but he was somehow still immensely comfortable. It was easy to snuggle into him and smother the flames licking at her belly by focusing on the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

It was safe, in Loki’s embrace. The anxieties that had littered her thoughts dropped away one by one with each deep breath he took to push his chest against her. And despite the peculiar twist of her stomach at his contented sigh, she managed to tilt her head up to leave a soft kiss on his jaw before settling back down. “I don’t wanna talk about it. What’d you have in mind?”

“Ideas which are altogether not appropriate,” he muttered under his breath. The rapid drum of his heart beneath her matched her own. She forced herself to take deep breaths that fanned out across his chest to leave goosebumps in their wake. He adjusted the blankets around them before propping open the book across his stretched legs in front of him. “Listen to my words, little one, and allow yourself to relax. I’ve got you now.”

His cheek rested on the top of her head so that the intimately given words were felt just as much as they were heard.

_““Sleep soft, beloved!” we sometimes say,  
But have no tune to charm away  
Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep.  
But not never doleful dream again  
Shall break his happy slumber when  
“He giveth his beloved, sleep.””_

The decadence of his murmured baritone was enough to loosen her limbs and leave her head heavy upon his chest. She tried to stay awake to listen to it for just a moment longer, just one moment, but the tentative caress of the backs of his fingers down her cheek and the light press of his lips to her forehead were enough to have her drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Blaring alarms and flashing lights violently woke her. She sat up in an unfamiliar bed, disoriented at the scent of cinnamon and mint that clung to the soft sheets surrounding her. But the events of the night before came back to her in a rush as she stumbled to her feet. Blankets were haphazardly scattered on the leather couch across from her, and her nighttime companion was nowhere to be found.

“Friday, what’s going on?” she shouted over the blaring noise, rubbing the sleep from her bleary eyes.

“The Avengers have been called for an emergency mission. They’re loading onto the Quinjet now.”

There wasn’t time to think. Haley zipped up her hoodie as she ran in the direction of the elevators, hoping that she wasn’t too late. Wanda was just running up the ramp when she peered around the corner. Gritting her teeth, she ran as fast as she could, scampering inside and then throwing herself behind a stack of boxes wrapped with protective netting. She curled into as tight of a ball as she could manage, stifling her heavy breathing against the skin her knees as she stared at the textured metal wall across from her. The jet beneath her shook slightly as it lifted off from the ground, and then her ears popped painfully as they took off from the top of Stark Tower.

“We've been tracking this douchebag for ages. Smuggling, theft, trafficking, you name it, he's done it. The feds don't want his blood on their hands and I'm more than happy-”

“If I may interrupt, Stark, I believe that we are not alone,” Loki’s agitated voice interrupted Tony’s speech.

Tony’s heavy sigh was somehow deafening over the roar of the engines beneath her. “Damnit, kid. The jig is up. Come on out.”

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. Haley slowly stood up from her hiding spot with knocking knees and her hands held entreatingly in front of her. “Please don’t be mad. Please. I’m sorry. I can help! I didn’t want to stay behind while you all-”

Tony stepped out from the middle of the huddled Avengers. He was a fearsome sight in his Iron Man suit, brown eyes hard and jaw set in a way that made her feel so terribly small. “This isn’t _safe_ for you. You shouldn’t have come. What if something happened to you, hmm?”

Steve came out from the front of the jet. The set of his jaw was no less fierce, but at least there was understanding in his eyes as they settled on Tony. “She just wanted to help. She can stay here on the jet.”

“There isn’t time to turn back,” Natasha chimed in from where she leaned back against the wall. Her black leather catsuit practically blended into the matte metal behind her, only making her blonde hair and fair skin that much more entrancing. “That intel is time sensitive. He’s on the move. Either we all take her back or she stays.”

Tears filled Haley’s eyes and she cowered back as far as she could go. Tony stopped his approach and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sniff. She squinted her eyes shut and bowed her head. “I won’t leave the jet, I promise. Please don’t leave me. Please, please,” she cried, her voice thick with sobs that she barely contained. She didn’t even know what she was begging for or against at that point, only that she wanted the fear gripping her lungs to ease.

“Can’t you just zap her back there, Reindeer Games?” Tony asked, the anger gone from his voice, disappointment remaining to cut deep in a wound that even she couldn't rapidly heal.

Rough hands from years of blade work gently wiped the hot tears from her face. She leaned into the large palm that cupped her cheek and opened her eyes to find the intricate patterns of Loki’s protective leathers completely blocking her vision. He pulled her flush against him so she was acutely aware of the tension vibrating in his lean frame.

“I will not leave her in this state. I can take her back, but I will not return to assist in this mission.”

“That’s just great, man. We need you on this,” Tony huffed his frustration, and Haley could hear the frown in his voice that matched the sound of his metallic hands hitting his sides.

“She will remain on this vessel, and I will ensure her safety,” Loki offered, smoothing his fingers over the curls at the nape of her neck in what would be a soothing gesture in any other circumstance. “Once we are back at the tower, we will further discuss her role in your band of misfits. Is this agreeable?”

Muttering that she couldn’t make out went on for several of Loki’s deep breaths. Her fingers dug into the thick cape flowing down his back. Just when she was about to pry herself away so she could at least see their deliberating, the talking stopped. And so did her heart.

“You stay on the jet,” Tony commanded, leaving no room for argument with his harsh tone. “You do what we say. And if anyone gets hurt, you do _not_ touch them. Do you understand me?”

Summoning all of her courage, she lifted her face from the sanctuary of Loki’s chest to meet Tony’s stony gaze. “I understand.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haley doesn't listen to instructions, and her and Loki share a quiet moment in his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Hostage situation, non-major character death, descriptions of injuries and blood

Understanding Tony’s instructions was one thing.

Abiding by them was another.

Haley’s bare feet tapped incessantly on the hard metal floor as she stared out the cockpit window at the decrepit building that the entirety of her life had descended into. Surrounded by a parking lot slowly succumbing to nature with weeds and trash scattered about, there weren’t any distractions from the terror that gripped her lungs like a vice at what laid within.

Loki had pressed a kiss to her temple before pinning her to the spot with a hard look tinged with desperation. “Stay,” he’d whispered fervently, pushing her gently away from the hatch before he followed the rest of the team.

Sitting ramrod straight in the overly large chair normally occupied by Steve, she waited, blinking at the blinding flashes of muzzle fire that lit up the windows, waiting for the muttered instructions between her friends to lighten and announce that they were heading back. That everything was fine. That her sitting like a useless lump wasn’t the worst decision of her life because it wasn’t like she could help much anyway. They hadn’t taught her how to fire a gun, she’d barely made it through one self-defense lesson with Nat, and her being there would be an unwelcome distraction that could make her presence _truly_ necessary.

“Point Break, Birdman, I could use some backup in here!”

 _Tony_. Her heartbeat ratcheted up in her chest and her knuckles went white from gripping the control panel in front of her. The alarm in his voice was unnatural. It was _wrong_. His voice was warm, built for sarcasm and snark and words of wisdom hidden behind colored glasses, not pain. And then her heart stopped beating altogether when grunts of pain bled through the staticky connection.

Steve’s steel-laced voice broke through the gunfire and commotion of his teammates fighting. “We’ve got a man down. Thor, Loki-”

Haley didn’t wait to hear what else was said. Springing to her feet, she scurried back to the hatch, slamming her palm down on the button to open it with such force that it reverberated up her arm and shook her gritted teeth. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she barreled down the ramp as soon as it was lowered enough, jumping to the gritty ground that bit at her soft soles.

But pain was something she’d lived with her entire life, and it was hardly granted a moment’s thought as she sprinted toward the graffiti-covered entrance. The deafening _pop!_ of guns fired in rapid succession echoed through the desolate space as she darted through the darkened doorway, chest heaving as she looked around with wide eyes. _Where was everybody?_

Boots stomped through the shadowy hallway to her left. Her hands flexed at her sides. She didn’t have a weapon. Nat said that punching someone would hurt more in real life without the protective wrappings she’d practiced in. But none of that mattered because all of the bravado and urgency that had flared to life at the sounds of Tony’s distress faded away with the reality presented before her. Wanda’s rage-filled shout came from somewhere above her, followed by a crash outside. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be there. She could help Tony once they got him onto the Quinjet.

She slowly walked backwards towards the exit, taking quick, shallow breaths to try to minimize the noise she made. But that didn’t matter, as a body slammed into her back, wrapping an arm around her torso, dragging her out into the light. Cold metal pressed into her temple and the acrid scent of copper and salt stung her nostrils from the filthy person behind her.

“Anybody touches me and she’s dead!” the man shouted, his voice too loud and too jarring delivered right behind her ear. He turned them to face the entrance, her body a shield for his slowly retreating steps.

Wanda was the first to appear, eyes and hands glowing red, highlighting the crimson stain on her snarled split lip. The light dimmed to reveal dark brown eyes and balled fists. “Let her go.”

Thor followed, carrying a limp Tony in his battered suit. Haley couldn’t see his face, the mask was still on, but the lack of response when Thor carefully leaned him up against the building had her wish she was brave enough to fight against her captor. Or maybe smart enough to have not left the jet at all. He gripped Mjolnir tightly and his pale blue eyes flashed a dazzling white. Storm clouds rolled overhead and she recalled Loki pronouncing him _‘The God of Thunder’._ She’d never her teddy bear of a friend look so fierce, like the warrior god he’d been raised to be.

Steve, Sam, Nat, Vision, and finally Loki all came out of the building as one. She only had eyes for Loki, who gave her the smallest nod before breaking out of the group to slowly stalk forward. Hatred unlike anything she had ever seen twisted his face as the wind snapped his hair and cape behind him.

He held two daggers out from his sides, one in each hand, and from the blood that stained his porcelain skin she knew that they had already seen use on this mission. “I am giving you one chance for a swift and merciful death. Release her to me, and I will grant it to you.”

The man trembled behind her and dug the barrel of the gun harder into her head, making her wince. Her hands gripped at the grubby arm biting into the soft skin of her chest. “Take one more step and I’m putting a bullet in her brain!”

The rest of the group stopped their slow formation of a semi-circle around her. What could only be described as cold wrath etched itself into the harsh planes of Loki’s face. It was terrifying, the sight of her gentle giant as such a cruel killer, but the logical part of her insisted that he wouldn’t harm her, no matter his temper.

Loki was gone in a flash of green light. None of the Avengers moved from their positions. She met Sam’s eyes in that brief second of confused silence, long enough for him to look pointedly behind her. Gravel crunched. The arm digging into her skin lurched, and the gun left her temple before firing next to her head. She screamed at the explosion of sound and light, crouching on her heels with her hands held protectively over her ringing ears.

Another arm, encased in black leather, wrapped around her torso. She struggled against it in vain before her twisting brought her around to see the motionless corpse of the man who’d held her. Thick blood covered his neck and soaked the collar of his grimy white t-shirt. Nauseous at the sight, Haley turned around and buried her face into Loki’s neck, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. His hands found a home under her thighs, holding her legs around his waist, and bone-breaking cold encompassed her for a split second.

“What were you thinking?!” Loki spat, setting her down onto a plush rug, gripping her upper arms tightly as he hunched over her.

She winced, both from the injuries to her feet and ears and the realization that she had caused him such concern. It was written in the trembling of his strong hands, the blaze burning in his startling eyes, and the break in his voice. Her mouth opened to answer, but nothing came out, as her attention fell to their surroundings. The soft black rug that cushioned her ruined feet. The quiet hum of air-conditioning that made Loki’s room so much colder than the rest of the tower.

“No,” she muttered, stumbling toward the windows, staring out at the skyline that was miles and miles away from her friends. Her fists pounded the thick glass and tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes. “No! Take me back! Tony’s hurt!”

“I will _not_!” he shouted. The sounds of heavy clothing hitting the floor with a muffled sigh piqued her attention enough to turn around. His cape was on the floor, and he was working at the ties of his leather tunic. “It isn’t safe for you there!”

The heat he flung at her singed her skin with its intensity. Never had this side of him, fiery and fierce, been directed at her before. His voice hissed out his distress, a charred piece of wood cracking against the flames that threatened to swallow it whole. He threw his armor down on the ground and carded his fingers through his hair. “You almost _died_.”

Her eyes fell on the thin white t-shirt clinging to his torso from sweat. Blood dotted the fabric, brushed there from the back of his hand. She stepped closer on aching feet, holding out her hands to him, wanting to heal his pain even with the burning venom radiating from him. “I can help y-”

“No!” he hissed, ripping off the bottom of his t-shirt and wrapping it around his hand in a quick bandage. He closed the remaining distance between them, his chest heaving as his hands weighed heavy on her shoulders. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Why do you insist on harming yourself to help others?”

“What good is this ability if I can’t use it to help those I love? I _care_ about you, Loki. I can heal you, and then you won’t be in pain anymore,” she insisted, tilting her head to press her cheek onto the back of his hand.

He cupped her cheek gently and swallowed. All of his anger faded away, and the vulnerability reflected in his eyes stole her breath for its unnatural beauty. His proud features weren’t meant to soften with such fear and tenderness. “If you will not do it for yourself, then do it for me. They are on their way and Stark will live. I promise you. Do not further injure yourself when it isn’t necessary.”

Her lips formed the words before she could even fully think them through. She’d say or do anything to ease the suffering pulling on the corners of his expressive mouth. “I won’t.”

Tension seeped out of his shoulders then, and he nodded, dropping his hold on her to wave his hand toward the door she knew led to his bathroom. “You should bathe; you smell of that unwashed bastard. I’ll lend you my clothing until you can return to your quarters.”

It felt strangely thrilling to undress with Loki milling about on the other side of the door. His bathroom was the same as hers at its core, a shower with far too many showerheads, toilet, sink, marble countertop, and the deep tub that Loki had filled with warm water and tantalizing oils that she recognized as those that perfumed his skin. But that was _his_ toothbrush, _his_ shampoo and conditioner, _his_ hairbrush. She sank into the steaming depths and sighed loudly in relief. Her head lolled back against the side of the tub and she closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax and believe Loki when he said that Tony would be fine.

Tony _would_ be fine, right? Loki wouldn’t lie to her. Not about something that important. He wouldn’t betray her trust in that way. He was a good man. He’d given her no reason not to believe him.

Only when the water started getting cold did she scrub her hair, now long enough to cover the tops of her ears and tease at the nape of her neck, and get out. She dressed quickly in her borrowed clothes, a black t-shirt that hung on her frame, sweatpants that had to be tied so as to not fall from her hips, and a zip-up black hoodie very similar to hers. But this was scented with the same pleasant masculine smell that she knew to be Loki, and she couldn’t help but hold the collar to her nose and inhale deeply as she padded out of the bathroom.

“May I see your feet?” Loki sat up from where he had reclined against the headboard of the bed, now dressed identically to her save for the hoodie. A first aid kit was open and spread at his side. He patted the bed next to him in silent invitation.

“I haven’t looked, but I don’t think any of it is too bad. I should heal in a day or so,” Haley protested weakly, but she walked over to him nonetheless. He was too tempting of a sight with his legs stretched before him and his freshly washed hair - he must have gone to the gym to shower - curling around his face. She climbed onto the bed beside him, sitting by his shins and allowing him to carefully pull her feet onto the cushion of his thighs.

“You are still mortal.” He pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment. He spread it on his fingertips and gently began applying it to her various cuts and scrapes. “And therefore, you are still incredibly fragile.”

Every inch of her skin felt taut beneath his thorough touch. Her blood buzzed with a thousand bees stirred to a frenzy in her veins and it took her hands digging into her thighs to stop herself from reaching out and pushing a lock of hair away from his face as he bent over her. She had never felt so alive as she had in that moment.

And never so bereft when he released her, leaving her feet on his lap as he methodically and efficiently packed up the safety kit and set it on his nightstand. The stretch of his torso to put it down revealed a sliver of creamy skin on his side that drew her attention like a moth to a flame. She bit down on her bottom lip and fought to control her ragged breathing.

“Are you well?” Loki asked, settling his hands on her ankles, his brow furrowed in concern. “Your face is flushed.”

She pulled herself from his grip, sitting up and scooting closer to him so the side of her leg pressed against his outer thigh. Her hands trembled in front of her as she held them out to him beseechingly. “I don’t know what this is…”

“What?” He took her hands in his, smoothing his thumb over the backs of them. “How can I assist you?”

She feared her heart would explode if she didn’t do something. She just didn’t know what. Lifting her wide eyes to Loki, she frowned. “This buzzing inside of me whenever you touch me. When you look at me like I’m… like I’m special. I just want,” she stopped, unable to vocalize a need that she couldn’t fully grasp herself.

He lowered their hands into his lap, releasing one to ghost up her arm. “What do you want?” he breathed, his voice that of a man dying of thirst.

“I want to touch you,” she admitted, speaking the need as soon as she realized it. The urge to learn the feeling of his body was so strong that her mouth watered at the thought of it. The throbbing ache low in her belly grew in intensity from the darkness that spread in the depths of his green eyes. “Can I?”

He released her and used his hands to push himself back more firmly against the headboard. His hands then fell open at his sides, and he met her gaze to give her permission with a silent nod. To anyone just glancing at him, Loki was the picture of relaxation. But she was so close, she could see his pulse race even faster in his throat when she sat up and moved to straddle his thighs. The bands of muscle beneath her tensed at her weight, but he didn’t ask her to move. The only response he gave was his fingers twitching before stilling once again.

She began with his hand. Her fingers traced over every blue vein that showed through his skin, skirting around the puckered wound he had left open to the air. She ignored the call to heal it, tamping that down even as she listened to the siren song of his skin beneath her searching fingers. It was so much larger than her own. Deft fingers and calloused palms were covered in tiny scars that told tales she longed to hear whispered against the shell of her ear. His bicep flexed involuntarily at the light squeeze of her hands. It held such strength that she knew she’d bruise him before she had any hope of finding any give in the muscle - as if she held the power to mar his flesh. Mapping the breadth of his shoulders and the slope of his neck next, she delighted in the beauty and grace of his lithe form.

“Is this okay?” Her wandering hands hovered over his jawline.

He dipped his head to press the razor-sharp edge of his jaw into her waiting palms. His dark gaze traced over her face beneath long black eyelashes that caressed his high cheekbones with every blink.

His depthless stare emboldened her. She leaned forward, balancing her weight on her knees on either side of his hips, carding her fingers through his silky soft tresses and pushing them away from his face. The caress of her thumb behind his ear made him shiver and gasp in a way that made her thighs clench together and that burning need deep inside her settle in between her legs.

His breath hitched again when she grazed the corner of his mouth with the pad of her thumb. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and she chased that flicker of movement greedily. Loki hadn’t been gifted with the fullest lips, it was true, but they were unbelievably soft and pliant. Her own lips parted to pant out her quickened breaths when she finally looked up to Loki’s eyes, letting her hand fall to the side of his neck. The ends of his hair shielded her hand from sight.

His chin dropped to his chest and he leaned forward slightly so that their foreheads pressed together. The air between their lips was warm from their shared breath. She closed her eyes, suddenly too shy to look at him from so close, to watch him as his nose nudged along the length of hers. It was too intimate, too unfamiliar and raw.

One of her hands fell to smooth over the hard muscle protecting his heart as it slammed against his ribcage. “Can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he whispered, the word a promise of the world fanning across her lips.

“Kiss me?” 

She had wanted the request to come out bold, seductive, like the women in the movies she watched with the gang on a Friday night. But she sounded small, her voice raspy and low. She hadn’t come into that moment intending to make such a request, but now that it was in front of her, she wanted nothing else. She wanted her first kiss to be bestowed upon her by Loki. To be the intoxicating man whose restraint she could feel in the delicate settle of his hands on the slight curve of her waist.

It was everything she thought it’d be and yet entirely new to her. Molten heat rolled throughout her body from the press of his mouth against hers. He tasted clean and sweet and just as enticing as he smelled. She sighed into him, breaking the kiss, feeling a bit of her break off with the parting of their lips. His hands kneaded the flesh at her hips affectionately and she mirrored that movement in his hair and with the fabric of his shirt on his chest.

Her eyes fluttered open to him smiling wistfully down at her. She was too overwhelmed to kiss him again, even though she so desperately wanted to, so she tucked her nose beneath his ear to hide in the curtain of his hair. The strong wrap of his arms around her back grounded her to the moment as if he knew how she felt as if she could fly.

“Thank you.” Her lips pushed the words out against his neck and his hold on her grew that much tighter at the contact.

He let out a huff of a laugh and replied, “It was my pleasure.”

And from the way that his hands splayed across her back and smoothed over the dip in her spine, she knew it to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn of Tony's condition after the mission, and Haley makes a few deals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Behavior indicative of abuse.
> 
> I have no apologies worth speaking for why this series went on hiatus for so long. Thank you for sticking around! <3
> 
> And extra thank yous to yespolkadot_kitty for Betaing this for me!

It’s one of the most difficult feelings in the world to watch someone you care for in pain.

But, for Haley, it’s something else entirely to watch them suffer and know that she _can_ end it, but has been forbidden to.

Without a snarky comment to pull his lips into his signature smirk or his eyes twinkling with ideas buzzing around in the billionaire’s brilliant brain, Tony looked small. Unimportant. Just a man with grey hairs peppering his goatee and deep, dark bags beneath his eyes. Wires disappearing beneath the blankets on his chest beeped out his restful state, timed to her foot tapping anxiously against the tiled floor.

“It’s just some bruising and a concussion. He’ll be okay, Hales,” Nat assured her from her place next to Tony’s head.

A plate appeared in front of her, a sandwich and fruit artfully arranged upon it, and she set it on her lap mechanically. Steady, large hands settled on her shoulders and she reclined back in the chair until her head rested against Loki’s sternum.

Quietly, she murmured, “He’d heal faster if I-”

“ _Absolutely_ not. You promised Stark, did you not?”

Any answer would just affirm his statement, and the guilt churning in Haley’s stomach was too heavy for her to answer him. If only she hadn’t promised, then she could be handling a rapidly healing concussion and Stark would be chewing her out right now. But her word was all that she had in this world, aside from her abilities, and she wasn’t going to face losing the trust of the only souls she had to call her own.

Which meant she sat there at his bedside, picking at her sandwich under Loki’s watchful gaze, as Avengers filtered in and out to check on their fallen leader.

~

“Absolutely not.”

Were those the only two words in his vastly overinflated vocabulary? Haley stood up and crossed her arms over her chest, facing Loki across from Tony’s bed. “I’ll stay on the jet. For real. You can make me a suit like Tony’s so that I’m protected.”

“You won’t need it if you don’t leave the Quinjet, Little Mouse.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You expect her to listen, Tony?”

Loki’s hands flexed at his sides and he shook his head with a look of fierce determination that stabbed into her stomach and ripped her heart out from inside her ribcage. “Out of the question. I won’t allow it.”

She unfurled her fists from her hoodie to count out her attributes on her shaky fingers. “I need to start earning my keep around here. I heal faster than all of you combined, even with super serum. Nat would’ve died if I hadn’t have helped-”

“And if I would have allowed you to continue, _you_ would have foolishly died instead!” Loki’s rage filled the small room, forcing Haley to flinch back in shock and clench her eyes shut as she waited for the blow that was sure to follow such fury.

It was Steve’s calm, level voice that lured her to open her eyes again. “Our lives are not worth yours.”

“And I’m not saying they are! But I can get you all healed to a point where you’ll make it to medical assistance, like I did with her. That’s all.” Her large eyes darted around the room, searching for an agreeing face amongst the thin frowns and furrowed brows. Everything in Haley wanted to stand down, shrink into a corner and hope for the confrontation to just blow over, but this was too important. “Please. I can’t stand by and watch the closest thing to family that I’ve had leave, not knowing who’s going to come back.”

The silence is interrupted only by the beeps of Tony’s heart monitor that grate on Haley’s frazzled nerves. She could’ve fixed it. She could fix them. Just given the chance. _Please, please, give me the chance._

“Only when necessary,” Tony finally spoke up, revealing the train of thought he’d been chasing since the conversation had begun. “You don’t get yourself killed saving us. If it’s our time, it’s our time. No dragging on like the last season of Friends - no one wanted that. You got me?”

Loki growled, a feral sound that chilled her bones, and stormed out of the room.

 _That’s my decision to make._ She nodded, squashing any look of triumph from her features, and stared back at his somber face. “I got you.”

~

Sleep wasn’t happening tonight.

That was made abundantly clear after hours of tossing and turning. Loki had avoided her for the rest of the evening, and the cold shoulder from someone who typically offered such warmth nagged at the back of her mind.

Would doing this, joining the Avengers, crush whatever they’d begun to build together into choking dust that couldn’t be salvaged?

Groaning, Haley sat up in bed and rubbed the heels of her hands over her weary eyes. “FRIDAY, what time is it?”

“It’s 2:17 AM.”

Highly unlikely that Loki was still awake at this hour, unlikelier still that he was out of his room. But still, she had to try.

After shoving some socks onto her bare feet and her hoodie over her tank top, she quietly slipped out of her room, creeping down the hallway as quickly as possible so as to not wake the Avengers who managed to find some rest. Many, she knew, were plagued with nightmares. It seemed to come with the territory. They couldn’t save everybody, and when they could, it sometimes meant making choices that haunted the shadows of their darkened rooms.

But Loki’s didn’t seem to be bothering him. Not tonight. At least not in the sprawling living area. She forced herself to ignore any - hopefully premature - disappointment and went to the kitchen, hoping to find his tall and dark figure gleefully arranging a plate of sweets for them to share. But it was empty, too.

Might as well make the trip worthwhile. Why pass up the opportunity to indulge in delicious treats? Tilting her head back and forth thoughtfully, she bit into a brownie that Pepper had brought in for the team - a thank you for getting Tony out safe and sound. Would she ever get used to the sweet explosion of bliss over her tongue? Sighing, her shoulders slumped and she set a cup of milk into the microwave and got it going. Hot cocoa sounded nice right now.

Well, that was until she accidentally tipped the almost boiling milk onto her hand, pulling a curse from low in her throat. “Fuck.”

“Let me see.”

Haley didn’t turn at the insistent, silken voice, watching the shadow of Loki’s head darken her reddened skin just before she felt the heat of him at her back. Long arms, encased in a gray hoodie that matched her own, slid into her vision so his hands could carefully cradle her injured hand. Any angry, stinging pain that had annoyed her more than anything was lost to the scent of him, cinnamon and mint and perfumed smoke, washing over her senses in a soothing embrace.

It took a few deep inhales to find her voice again. “It’ll be okay. Healing is kind of my thing.”

Strong hands dropped to press into the countertop on either side of her, white knuckles revealing the slightest bit of effort it took to make the marble begin to crack in protest. Or perhaps that effort was made in order to _not_ ruin the cool surface.

His voice was tight when he muttered, “That it is.”

Thankful for once for her slight build, she turned in the cage of his body, facing him. He was entirely too close, entirely too handsome with his tumble of midnight hair over his shoulders and searching emerald eyes inches away. Her heart raced against her ribcage that flexed with each rapid breath, and greedy fingers splayed over his chest to find that his did just the same. The flick of her tongue over her lips drew his focus downward, and her stomach clenched at the sudden darkness of his steady gaze.

One tries. Two. She cleared her throat and tried once more for what little courage she had. “I need to do this, Loki.”

Steel arms wrapped around her to pull her into his chest. His voice rumbled through his throat and against her forehead when he replied, “I know.”

“Help me?”

Molten comfort flowed out from the press of his mouth over her temple. “Promise me one thing?”

That tone of his voice, pleading, broken and vulnerable beneath the demand, crawled into her soul and commanded it to listen as he placed his hopes at her feet. “What?”

Large, needy hands skated up her back to curl around her neck so his thumbs could press underneath the edge of her jaw and hold her attention to his heartbreakingly earnest expression. “If the situation comes between your life and theirs, or mine,” he swallowed with the barest twitch of his chiseled cheek, “you save yourself. Promise me.”

There wasn’t any way to deny him. Not when he looked as if her answer held the very key to his next bated breath. “Okay.”

Rewarded with a soft brush of his lips over hers, a sigh of relief laced with chocolate flooded the space between them. She’d promise him anything if it meant she could bask in the sweet mint of his breath that raised goosebumps over her neck when he pulled away to study her reaction to the flick of his silver tongue against the seam of her mouth.

Eager to explore the newfound sensation, to lose herself in Loki’s strength and passion, she tilted her chin up slightly in a silent offering of _more_. Even if she didn’t know what that was, she wanted it. Wanted _him_.

Desperation lined his lips, held her between the long line of his body and the rigid countertop behind her as he kissed her again, pouring every bit of vulnerability he was unable to verbally express into the card of his fingers through her short, unruly hair. She melted into his heat, clinging to broad shoulders and following the mold of his mouth to teach her how to ease the ache of their anxieties. She learned the flex of his thigh in between her legs, and when the intensity that clenched her stomach sank lower and became unfamiliar and too much, he stopped.

Searing need turned to calming, chaste affection, kissed over flushed cheeks and above dark lashes until he leaned his cheek against the crown of her head while they both caught their breath.

Emboldened by the pulse in her swollen lips, she whispered the beginning of her own demand, “Loki?”

“Hmm?” His voice was rough, low and deep, and she _liked_ it. One day, she’d discover why it sent an electric shiver down her spine.

Her forehead scrunched against the column of his neck. “No more silent treatments, okay? Talk to me.”

He stiffened almost imperceptibly against her, remaining rigid despite the steady draw of her hands up and down his back. “What you ask of me is not so easy, Little One.”

“I didn’t say it was. But shutting me out isn’t going to make the decisions you disagree with any easier to handle. Talk to me, okay?”

One of his hands glided down so his thumb could rub over the curve of her shoulder, and his heavy sigh ruffled her hair. “I will try.”

And both of them knew that was as good as they were going to get.


End file.
